


i hate feeling so vulnerable

by viraseii



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 08:05:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16384358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viraseii/pseuds/viraseii
Summary: its just james giving keith a blowjob and keith being uwu





	i hate feeling so vulnerable

**Author's Note:**

> PORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRN  
> I am groot. Ok here we go

“You pity me, Griffin?” It’s soft. It falls out of Keith’s mouth unexpectedly, just another one of his moments - he’s afraid and the smallest of doubts turns into a lashing tongue. James has been gazing at the mosaic of scars patterning Keith’s chest, his fingers resting at Keith’s temple, just over the stitches in his scalp.

James’ eyes snap up to meet Keith’s, calm, and they _look_ pitying, but he shakes his head. “No, I’m amazed by you,” he says softly, and Keith’s so out of his depth here - he’d finally gotten to accept his family was there for him. He was starting to accept that his friends were permanent. This - whatever _this_ is, is fragile, like a leaf still clinging to wood in the middle of winter.

He doesn’t want to mess it up. He’s so afraid of messing it up, there’s a part of him that’s _trying_ to mess it up, because at least then he’s in control of the situation. “Really?” he murmurs. “Or am I… some kid you had a grudge against, who got dealt the wrong card, and now you’re trying to make amends.”

“It’s nothing like that,” James says, and he sounds afraid, but there’s a resolve in his voice that shoves its way into Keith’s chest. Which is awfully rude of it, if Keith’s being honest. “You’re…” he seems to lack words. “You’re so much. You… I love you.”

That does it. Keith’s eyebrows pinch upward and he tilts his head back into the pillow at his skull, fingers gently slipping through the short locks of hair at the back of James’ head.

“And I missed you,” he continues, because Keith’s breaking of eye contact is apparently an invitation to emotionally compromise him. “I - you always drove me insane, I wanted to know you inside and out, and I never wanted you to - I never wanted anything to happen to you. And the day you disappeared… And then hearing from Sam that you were fighting a war out there. That you were at the heart of something and I could barely fight against the brink of it. It terrified me.”

“Griffin,” Keith murmurs, pleading.

“It still does,” he insists, and Keith feels the shift of his body weight over him as James’ breath fans out, cascades down his jaw. “You’re incredible. I feel like I’m holding the universe in my hands, and I’m afraid that you’re slipping through my fingers.”

 _Same,_ Keith thinks.

“Nothing makes me happier than knowing that all of that is over, now.”

Is it, though? They’re here, sock on the door, light shifting through sheer curtains to play over their bodies, candle burning on the nightstand, and who knows what they’ll fish out of the ocean tomorrow? Who knows what knowledge recovering the robeast will bring? Who knows how long things like this really last?

His mom thought she could escape, once, too.

James laughs a little. “Black Lion got your tongue?”

Keith’s lifts lift upward. “No,” he says quietly. “I’m just…” he runs his hands down the back of James’ shoulders. “Feeling this.” He opens his eyes slightly to realize James is leaning down, closing the distance between them and capturing Keith’s lower lip between his teeth, tugging softly.

It’s maddening. Keith’s pulse is nearing light speed. He can’t handle the full brunt of James’ emotional coddling _and_ his physical intimacy. It’s so much - every cell in his body is exploding, collapsing, going supernova.

“Can I take this off?” James asks quietly, slipping his thumbs under the waistband of Keith’s boxers.

“You have to ask?” Keith bites, voice rough.

“Yeah,” James says, pointedly, and Keith squeezes his eyes shut. Communication is so emotionally draining.

“Yes, you can,” Keith murmurs, because his boner doesn’t have first amendment rights. And it kills him to say it - like he’s taking off his paladin suit in front of an ion cannon, like he’s kneeling before Lotor’s sword. He’d almost be in one of those positions rather than where he is now, with James gently sliding down Keith’s underwear and his hair dragging over the ridges of Keith’s abdomen.

Almost.

James’ hands come back up to roam over Keith’s sides, combating the chill that settles over Keith’s torso when James moves his head level with Keith’s hips. He places the flat of his tongue against the tip of Keith’s dick and Keith flinches immediately, knees flying together like magnets, hands scrambling to find James’ shoulders to push him away.

“Are you okay?” James asks immediately, and Keith can barely breathe because it’s too much - it’s too much - he can’t handle all this _feeling._

“I’m good,” Keith whimpers out.

They’ve done this before. It took a long time for James to understand that Keith wants this, craves this, and all his hesitation and flinching doesn’t mean Keith isn’t into it. He gives Keith a moment to calm down, and then comes close again, pressing his lips gently against the shaft, open mouthed, letting his breath skitter over Keith’s skin.

Keith pulls in a breath and holds it, trying to center himself, but James makes that impossible - even when he’s just standing in the same room, so Keith has no hope for when he’s slowly wrapping his lips around him and taking him in. A thousand sensations leave Keith trembling, aching, heart withering from the sheer attention.

It’s this.

Sheets under his elbows, James’ bangs spilling through his fingers, the soft sound of rain outside the window. The smell of apple cinnamon and fresh linen and James, clean and almost musky, clouding any rational thought. The tightening of muscles in his stomach, his shoulders, his neck, the loss of control as his breath releases and he gasps for more air, because suddenly he can’t catch it.

“James,” Keith whines as he moves, slow so Keith feels every second of it, hands gentle and fingers long and comforting as they splay over Keith’s ribs. The blanket is bunched up to Keith’s right and he grabs it, dragging it over his chest because he needs something to hold on to, gripping it tight and trying to let the softness of it on his skin distract from the unbearable warmth and slick of James’ mouth.

It doesn’t.

It’s unbearable.

_Unbearable._

This moment where he has never felt safer, never felt more vulnerable, never more at peace or more scared. His heart is beating against his ribs, a dedicated drumming, humming, thrumming, singing.

The soft grey light from the overcast sky outside is what seals this moment for Keith. Every moment of his life that lead up to now, with his knees shaking as James grips them and holds them apart, his hips quivering as he tries desperately to hold onto the edge of this cliff he’s staring down, has been nothing. Nothing because this is when he’s most alive.

Keith tucks his chin down and shouts into the blanket when he comes, feeling James swallow around him, and he feels like he’s falling - and still falling - and still going - and when he finally slows and James finally pulls back he settles into a familiar satisfied haze but it’s different.

It’s different every time. One of these days it’s going to happen: he’s going to slip and say “I love you” and he won’t be able to take it back - but thank god it’s not yet.

James moves up to nuzzle his cheek into Keith’s hair, letting their bodies touch everywhere because he knows how much Keith needs that physical, living, breathing proof that he’s here. He pulls the blanket away from Keith’s iron grip and shifts under it, letting it fall to cover both of them as he presses a soft kiss to the skin behind Keith’s earlobe.

He lets the words float out into the air hours later, when James is asleep and Keith is barely hanging onto consciousness himself, softly in the afternoon post-rain sunlight, when he knows James can’t listen to him.

Just so he can hear himself say it.

**Author's Note:**

> pls kudos and comment please please please


End file.
